ROMAN'S REVENGE
by Georgiana Spencer
Summary: I am not the person who wrote Superhell!, but the person who writes Superhell! approves of this story.
1. Some Fucking Major Art

**Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, _incest_, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana.  
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><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 1<strong>

**SOME FUCKING MAJOR ART**

for fetus, with love**. **:)**  
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><p><strong>WE WILL FUCK YOU UP BITCH<strong> is spray-painted in red on a temporary wall for a reconstruction site. Some dude takes a picture of it with his camera phone as Ciel passes by. Ciel is carrying his gigantic drawing pad that is twice the size of himself all the way across campus. It is his own damn fault really. He could have purchased the material over the weekend and stored it in his locker inside the art building; instead, he waited till the last minute to do it. It also sucks that it's drizzling today. All the girls are wearing their fancy rain boots that they got from Megalomart. A girl passes by and smiles at Ciel with much friendliness, probably _not_because Ciel is so hot and kawaii, and that the girl is head over toe in love with him at first sight – it was probably because the girl is super nice and Christian.

"Did you fucking see that?" Georgiana asks, outraged.

"Nope, don't care." Ciel replies briefly, sort of expecting what is going to come out of Georgiana's mouth next.

"Houndstooth. She is wearing cheap ass _printed_ houndstooth rain boots WITHOUT MAKEUP!" Georgiana barks.

"So what? She can wear whatever the fuck she wants, G. It's none of your business."

"No one should ever wear houndstooth without lipstick – I mean, if you are blonde then maybe you can pass with a neutral pink lipstick. But brunettes look best with red lipstick when they are in houndstooth. Not to mention that the pattern should never be distorted when printed on something. It's just in bad taste really. Seriously, did you even see her rain boots? It's just _printed_. So _cheap_! I saw Lady GaGa's houndstooth look the other day, she pulled it off quite well with her blonde wig..."

"G."

"Yes, Ciel?"

"You are a fucking poodle."

"I am, Ciel. There is no doubt about it."

"You don't even have lips. So why the fuck do you care about lipsticks?"

"Because I can turn into human at will." Georgiana looks up at Ciel and opens her mouth to make a noise that irritates Ciel so much that he flinches. "DUH!"

Ciel rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh of annoyance as Georgiana keeps babbling on about the rules for wearing houndstooth until they reach the art building and Georgiana has to go to her art history class in the auditorium.

Ciel walks toward the elevator, but contemplated over using the stairwells. He could use some working out, but he's not in the mood. Then again, when was he ever in the mood? "I am such a fucking lazy bastard." Ciel thinks to himself as he pushes the button for the second floor. The door opens and Ciel is greeted by his drawing professor. John is forty something years old and very energetic but a bit cynical. He is also a very good drawing professor.

"Hel-lo." John says in his cheery sort of voice.

"How are you, John?"

"Doing good. Look, I need to go get something, I will be back in ten minutes. If someone comes in looking for me, it's the model, just tell him to sit down and wait for me. OK?" John winks, making the OK sign with his right hand.

"OK, got it." Ciel assures his professor as the elevator closes again.

The classroom is a bit empty. Two girls are sitting in the corner, talking about their boyfriends. One of them have big tits and blonde hair, but she was kinda fat. The other one has messy hair but a really nice body. Either way, Ciel cannot care less, since he finds no interest whatsoever in the opposite sex. Ignoring the two girls, Ciel drags his drawing pad to a nearby easel and puts it up, setting it straight.

"Excuse me, is this John de Mingo's class?" A slender, six foot tall, absolutely sexy, drop dead gorgeous man with silky black hair asks. Oh, not to mention his eyes, so fucking sexy and red.

"Er... yes. Are you the model?" Ciel takes him in, not exactly comfortable with the tall man towering over him.

"Yes. Nice to meet you, my name is Sebastian." The man named Sebastian offers his hand. Ciel does not want to shake it, since he detests body contacts in general. Sebastian notices as Ciel stares at his hand.

"Sorry. Old habit, germophobic. Nothing against you personally. I am Ciel."

"What a nice name. It means sky in French, am I correct?" Sebastian says friendlily, trying to start a conversation.

"Yeah... look man, I am a student here, and I am going to draw you, _naked_, in like, 10 minutes." Ciel tries to talk in this teenage-ish way that American teenagers do, but fails miserably as his British accent creeps in. But nonetheless he keeps talking. "As an artist I am just not comfortable with getting to know my models. Again, nothing against you, just–"

"I completely understand." Sebastian says politely, then sits down in a nearby chair as he waits for John.

Students start filling up the room as it gets closer to one o'clock. Finally the bell from the clock tower rings proudly in the school anthem tune and everyone is ready with their supplies next to their easels. John makes a dramatic entrance as he always does and announces the objectives of today's class. He briefly introduces Sebastian, who is sitting on the podium only with a black silk robe covering his sexy, hot body.

John starts talking to Sebastian of the poses that he wants him to make. The class starts getting noisy as girls whisper to each other about how hot they think Sebastian is. Ciel is unfortunately the 1% in the classroom. Not many guys major in art, and the ones that do are not in Ciel's class. Ciel messes with his charcoal and scribble nonsensical shit on his drawing pad.

"Alright, we are going to do some gesture drawings at first. Get your charcoal ready, I want to hear charcoal scratching on your paper. Chop chop." John waves his hand in the air and everyone opens up their pads and started drawing. Ciel looks around the room, a few girls' jaw dropped open as Sebastian's robe fell down to the floor. Is it possible that someone can have the physique of a Greek statue? That is probably the question in most of the girls' minds. Sebastian stands like a sex god on the podium, some girls are having a hard time concentrating. Sebastian is told to change poses every twenty seconds or so, and everyone in the room are too damn busy staring at his perfect body to draw anything. John seems almost oblivious as he fidgets with the music on his iTunes, trying to figure out which Johnny Cash song he wants to listen to today.

Ciel finds this whole scene quite humorous, but he suppresses his giggles. Sebastian looks at him, and Ciel stares back indignantly, almost trying to convey the message "You have a bigger penis, so what?" Inside their minds, both of them can feel a mysterious external force strongly wanting the both of them to fuck each other senseless right then and there in front of everyone, on the podium... what sort of abominable idea is this? Is there any sexual tension between him and Sebastian? No, absolutely none. Sebastian has a really nice dick, but Ciel does not like sucking dicks. Uh-uh. No way. Ciel shakes his head a few times, and the strange feeling subdues. Sebastian changes pose again.

The rest of the class is just as boring as usual. After doing 20 gesture drawings, John wants Sebastian to sit down in a comfortable pose that he is going to be staying in for thirty minutes... then everyone takes a break... and then resumes drawing. When the clock strikes 5 p.m. and the tower rings five times, everyone is already ready to leave. John likes to let everyone go on time because he is an awesome prof.

As if some external force that is controlling this shenanigan of a story is creeping into his bones, Ciel walks up to Sebastian as he finishes putting his pants back on.

"So er... would you like to grab something to eat together? I heard there's a sandwich place that's pretty good down at 14th street."

"Would you like to try something else afterwards?" Sebastian suggested coyly, compelled to make a sexual innuendo by the same force that is controlling Ciel's actions.

"What?"

"Nevermind, let's go." Sebastian opens the door for Ciel.

"I keep getting the feeling that I am forgetting someone or something." Ciel mumbles under his own breath.

The bus arrives and they got a pretty decent seat at the back. A homeless person is dosing off in the corner.

"So what do you do?"

"Make contracts."

"What kind of contracts? You mean like a lawyer?" Ciel asks, confused.

"Oh, I mean... yeah, I am actually just a business major here, forget what I said earlier."

"OK." Ciel says and continue to stare at the floor, he really isn't that interested.

"What's your major?" Sebastian asks in return.

"Art. Obviously."

"Design or...?"

"Studio."

"Oh, I see. What kind of art are you into?" Sebastian sounds a bit interested, but Ciel thinks that he is only faking it. There's something about those eyes. They speak of a void existence.

"Painting, mostly." Ciel answers briefly, looking at the pink and orange gradient across the horizon. The sun is setting... Ciel feels a bit sleepy. When he wakes again, they are already on 14th street and Sebastian urges him to get off the bus.

"Something tells me that you should be majoring in demonology or some weird shit like that." Ciel comments.

"Yeah? Well I am not into any of that... not really." Sebastian sounds distant, as if he's thinking of something very very far away... something far far away... where Shrek and Fiona lived happily ever after...

"May I help you sir?" The cashier asks Sebastian. The story is progressing so fast in its nonsensical way that Sebastian is not even aware that Ciel and him have been waiting in line for delicious and expensive campus sandwiches.

"Er... just a chicken sandwich, I guess."

"That's going to be $9.99." The cashier said in a monotone. She hates her job.

"That is one fucking expensive chicken sandwich." Sebastian mutters under his breath. "What did you get?" He asks Ciel.

"Just water, it's free." Ciel shrugs.

"What? You are the one who wants to come here in the first place. You said the sandwiches are good." Sebastian feels a bit outraged. Who the fuck does this little motherfucker think he is? He can just beat the shit out of him right here if he wants to. Sebastian tries to suppress his violent tendencies, but he's only a demon.

"No, I just kinda thought you are a douche-bag and I wanted you to waste money on a shitty chicken sandwich." Ciel admits bluntly instead of thinking of a clever reply that would make him sound flirtatious. His mind is too numb right now to think up anything good anyways.

Sebastian's jaw is about to drop. But he kinda likes this little dude's attitude, so he keeps his cool and says nothing. And really, it's perhaps the masochist inside of him that is secretly enjoying being verbally bitch-slapped by this punk.

As the chapter is coming to an end, and the prospect of having sex with Sebastian after this is very unlikely, Ciel suddenly remembers something.

"Hey um, I am going to go. I remember that I was supposed to walk my friend home, she's probably really angry at me right now." Ciel says, thinking of Georgiana and imagining how she's going to go on a rampage about him _completely _forgetting about her.

"Alright, see you." Sebastian says, even though he knows they will probably never see each other again.

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><p>AN: This fanfiction is also available on tumblr. My username is poodleduchess.

This is a parody of Akiru-chan and Disgruntled's _The Devil's Canvas_. I have nothing against Akiru, and I have talked to her personally before. I think the both of them are great writers. Compared to them I think my writing is really shitty. I am no saint and I will admit I've fapped to the first few chapters of _The Devil's Canvas_ before. Again, I cannot stress enough that this is only a satire, please do not take it too seriously.

I also want to acknowledge The Amazing Fetus and her stupendous work, especially her satirical works written for this fandom. Superhell! is an inspiration for this fanfiction.


	2. Eight Inches or Longer Only

**Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, _incest_, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
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><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 2<br>**

**Eight Inches or Longer Only  
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><p>"I can't believe you just hung out with him!" Georgiana barks, wide-eyed. "And you ditched him!"<br>"I did, so deal with it." Ciel would much rather G get mad at him for being late rather than for not being friendly to that dude who has a bigger penis than he does.

"You little brat have no idea who he is, don't you?" Georgiana turns her head away from Ciel, checking up on her reflection on the tainted glass. People behind the glass in the restaurant stare at her flamboyant pink fur, but their existence is just nonexistent in G's eyes.

"No, not really. And I can't care less." Ciel is lying. He totally wants to know and get laid with that sexy man.

"He's Sebastian Michaelis, president of- " Georgiana looks around, to see if anyone is eavesdropping. Pointless paranoia, no one is interested. "the eight-inches-or-more club."  
>"What kind of club is that?" Ciel laughs.<p>

"It's a frat, I can't remember the name though, it's at the tip of my tongue, something with sigma in it. I think. It's a really exclusive club for business majors. You mellow son of a bitch thinks that you are so carefree you probably don't give a shit. But anyway, even if you were an ambitious business major you still can't join, you are nowhere near eight inches." Georgiana says as a matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah? But you still like to hump me for eternity, you pedo." Ciel wants G to shut up. But what he just says make him realize that him fucking his ancestor from the eighteenth century is actually pretty fucking sick. But who cares, if anything, she is sicker.

"Whatever." Somehow Georgiana's quietude gives Ciel a nameless dread. Ciel can't help but think that she is concocting some really scary plans inside her head to punish him later.  
>They went back to the dorm. It's a two person room with one bathroom and two separate bedrooms. It is pretty spacious, more like a small apartment than a dorm room. But it costs much more than those puny regular dorm rooms, that's why most people on the floor are business majors whose parents are filthy rich. But it's OK, Ciel's parents are rich and so is Georgiana. (Georgiana has gold Spanish doubloon in her fault, and that is only a small portion of her wealth.) They don't even really need to go to a cheap ass school like this one, they just don't have to go to school. Period. But they still do, just to fit in.<p>

G goes right into the bathroom. Ciel puts down G's Louis Vuitton handbag, which he has been carrying for her like a gentleman on the way home. She couldn't carry it anyway, mostly because she has no hands.

Ciel lies down on his bed. He feels really tired. The Daily Show is on right now, and he feels so tired he just falls asleep to the noise of an angry John Stewart and audiences laughing... Republican primary, cat maid, Newt Gingrich, old women with wrinkled hand, Obama on an online chat, a shirtless Joe Biden, Newt Gingrich with Donald Trump, skateboarder hitting a pole right between his groin... ouch!...

The next thing Ciel wakes up to is G straddling him in her pink Victoria's Secret corset with matching panties, also by Victoria's Secret. Ciel stared at her perfectly pushed up tits, which has a "Made in England" tattoo along with a Union Jack right beside it.  
>"How do you do, sleepy head?" Georgiana says coyly. Shifting her juicy butt to create friction. Ciel is already getting hard. When was the last time they had sex? It seems like it's been a while. Georgiana was just not in the mood for the past two weeks, and Ciel is not complaining. He doesn't like to have sex too often anyway, unlike Georgiana, whose libido can be insatiable at times.<p>

Ciel is not the type to talk too much during sex, so he doesn't say anything. He rolls over and placed G on the bed, while he unzips his pants.

"Suck on it."

"If you are gonna fuck me you should at least kiss me first." Sort of quoting Eric Cartman from season fifteen of South Park.

"You know I am not into that. I am a bad kisser. Just... suck my dick."

"Awww, c'mon." G whines. But it's true that Ciel is a bad kisser. There is absolutely nothing romantic or even slightly erotic about Ciel's kisses.

Ciel remains motionless, his uncircumcised dick pointing up, waiting for G to suck it. If Georgiana isn't that desperate, and honestly, it's more about the convenience rather than desperateness, she would never ever fuck Ciel. And that is actually a big fucking lie, because Georgiana is a total pedo. Ciel's young looks is a total turn-on for her two hundred plus years old vagina.

Georgiana expertly lowers her mouth to Ciel's cock, pulling the foreskin back, and started lapping at it like it was a lollipop. Her Pink Friday Nicki Minaj Lipstick (limited edition) by MAC smearing all over his shaft.

So while some weirdo is fapping to this text in their bedroom, the camera flashes to some other scenes. Said weirdo curses at the writer.

In the same building, two floors below where Ciel and Georgiana are having kinky sex right now, the camera zooms in to a very sexy looking demon called Sebastian.

"Hey Bateman, will you quit pinning vaginas up on the wall?" Sebastian says as he enters the dorm room that he shares with Patrick Bateman. "Like seriously, for the hundredth time. It's pretty fucking-" Sebastian stalls, trying to think up a better word than "weird."

"Aren't you a demon or something? I can't understand why you never take interest in the way I kill and mutilate human bodies." Patrick remarks while cleaning off some blood on his chainsaw, which is also his death scythe and primary tool for serial killing. "It's a method that took me years to developed, I'd appreciate some admiration of it on your part."

"No, I don't have anything against it, not even the fact that you are chewing on someone's bitten off nipple right now. It's just I don't want them on the wall, that's all. I like minimalism, and the complex structure of a woman's vagina is just not fitting in with the whole room." Sebastian says, while making himself a drink consisting of some red wine and blood from a hooker that Patrick killed last Thursday. "Want some?" Sebastian doesn't want to evoke Patrick by saying that he's been killing longer than him. He feels rather peaceful today and is not in the mood of starting an argument with his roommate. Maybe it's because he's met the smart-mouthed kid earlier, and trying to get laid with him is all he can think about at this point.

"No, I rather have a J&B." Patrick says.

"Suit yourself." Sebastian takes a sip. "Have you ever tried drinking the blood of an hare?"

"No, I've only drank human blood." Patrick says, looking up at the demon, quite interested at the topic at hand.

"Oh, you should try. The texture is amazing. It leaves a tinkling sensation on the tip of your tongue..." Sebastian takes another sip from his glass. "I just can't explain it. It's...euphoric."

"Doesn't Perrier does the same thing?" Patrick says, joking. The both of them burst out laughing so hard that tears appear at the corners of their eyes.

"Should we have a party at the house this weekend?" Sebastian asks, since Patrick is the vice president of the eight-inches-or-more club.

"Negative. I heard some other frats are planning a party as well, shouldn't do it on the same day." Patrick says. "Don't get me wrong, I just kinda want to smooch off their beer this time."

"Right, since last time they came in crashing our party and just got drunk off our booze." Sebastian touches his chin. "Fucking bastards."

"I think we should just go clubbing on sixth street." Patrick says, putting his death scythe away.  
>"Good idea, it's easier to get coke there." Sebastian says, thinking how they can only get weed on campus at best.<p>

"Should we invite Claude?" Patrick asks, although he doesn't really want to invite Claude. He just wants to get a reaction from Sebastian.

"If you want." Without looking at Patrick, Sebastian hung his antique Victorian overcoat up. Sebastian knew Patrick suspects that he is having an affair with Claude Faustus, so he says nothing. Goddamn homophobe needs to chill out. For a guy who claims that he has no sense of moral, Bateman is pretty intolerant. Fucking hypocrite. What does he expect? He's a fucking demon!

"No, I don't want to invite him." Patrick says. "I hate it when he brings his 'cousin' little fairy thing disgusts me. I want to rip his guts out and stomp on his eyeballs after I pluck them out, and maybe I want to electrocute him." Patrick says, thinking of the last time he electrocuted someone and how their body parts were swollen in such a comical way that he had to laugh at the sight afterwards, hell, he still wants to laugh.

Sebastian is on the verge of laughter, "Why do you hate that brat so much?"

"I just don't think green and purple match, who is he? The Joker? Not to mention that he keeps buying his clothes at Forever 21 and Urban Outfitters. I just want to stab him to death, I don't even want to eat him or taste his blood." Patrick says, outraged. The image of Alois's wardrobe haunts him.

Someone knocked on the door as Patrick finishes his sentences. "Hey boys, it's me." Grell says coyly.

"Sutcliff, go away!" Patrick growls. He is thinking, Oh no, not this crazed redhead again.All Patrick wants to do right now is curl up in a hole and not see the light till he knows that Grell Sutcliff is dead. But that is impossible. It's impossible to kill a shinigami. As Patrick locks himself in one of those emo moments where he wearily reflects upon his lack of personality and nihilism in general, Sebastian goes up to the door and open it just to piss Patrick off. Payback for mentioning Claude earlier.

"Hey Sebby, Hey Patrick," Grell says cheerfully, cheek kissing Sebastian. Sebastian lets him. It's worthed for what Grell is about to do to Patrick.

"What do you want Grell?" Patrick demands. All the injustice of the world is being done on this poor man of a psychotic serial killer, and all he wants to do is to give the world a big middle finger for it.

"Paaaatrick, don't you remember we are scheduled to do some soul reapping tonight?" Grell whines, "In Paris. Oh god, it's going to be so romantic. Two psychopaths who share a night of passion for blood-lust."

"No, I don't recall." Patrick doesn't look at Grell because he's a pussy and is not capable of confrontations. "Why don't you ask someone else to fill in for me. I am not feeling well. I need to..." Patrick stalls. "Return some video tapes."

Sebastian almost laughed out loud. Every time Patrick uses that line he just wants to laugh his fucking ass off. If you are into that kind of humor, Patrick is actually a really funny roommate. The shit that he says and the way that he acts entertain Sebastian to no end.

"Oh c'mon Patrick, just come with me. It will be funnn."

"No."

"I will tell Will that you've been making kills by hacking the system and putting innocent hookers who are not scheduled to die on the list if you don't come with me tonight."

"Innocent hookers..." Patrick repeats. His facial expression going blank as his brain drifts off on a thought really far away, on top of some snow-covered mountain in Aspen or something. Is there any such thing as innocent hookers?

"Oh, he's at it again." Sebastian remarks. Grell lets out a frustrated groan, grabs Patrick by his arm and drags him out of the room. Sebastian can hear Grell says "C'mon Patrick." after the door closes.

"So how did you get in, Grell?" Patrick asks once he's out of his internal trance.

"I killed the doorman, honey." Patrick flinches, not at the fact that Grell killed the doorman, but at the word 'honey'. He hates it. The unbearable sweetness of that word can give him a toothache.

"That's the fourth one this month." Patrick states, stepping over the body of the dead doorman who's saliva is drooling from the corner of his opened mouth.

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><p>AN: Other than taking inspiration from SuperHell! by Fetus, I also take inspiration from American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis.


	3. Friday Night

**Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, _incest_, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
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><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 3<br>**

**Friday Night  
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><p>"Hey Ciel honey, can you please hand me the towel on my bed?" Georgiana asks from inside the bathroom. Ciel does as he was told. He hates being Georgiana's slave, but at least the bitch isn't too abusive.<p>

Inside the bathroom Georgiana is dying her coat hot pink. She had added on some orange highlights because orange seems to be the trend for this fall. Poppy orange dots on a pink afro, a poodle can't get any flashier than this.

"G, you look too bright, it hurts my eyes to look at you." Georgiana doesn't believe in too much sparkles.

"Good, because boring people like you have boring tastes." The poodle looks at herself in the mirror, too busy indulging herself in her own narcissism to give a shit about intellectual conversations. Talking about deluding yourself with the superficials.

Ciel turn to the TV, channel surfing. KevJumba is hosting for Cartoon Network. Ciel has just noticed. When the fuck did that kid start working for CN? Ciel has no idea. He hasn't been watching CN after _The Misadventure of Flapjack_ was canceled. He's not exactly into the new shows. Seems too trippy and hipster-ish for his taste. He enjoys the artsy texture displayed in _Flapjack_ and _Chowder_ more than the simple coloring pages style of _Adventure Time_. Or maybe he has just out-grown cartoons... But there is something in the show that sets _The_ _Misadventure of Flapjack _apart from the rest of the recent shows. Perhaps it's the fact that it possesses a certain dark sense of humor that only grown-ups can see - a child living with a blue man inside a whale's stomach. What the fuck? The realization of how you would have never noticed the darkness when you were a child brings on a certain gloominess to Ciel's current mood.

"Would you play some music please, Ciel honey?"

Georgiana likes to call Ciel honey mostly because she (is an elitist bitch) likes to establish the idea that she is way more mature that he is, even though Ciel doesn't think so. Georgiana is in fact related to Ciel via some blood line. She is actually Princess Diana's great great grandaunt. Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire, wife of the fifth Duke of Devonshire, big fucking deal. She was also Marrie-Antoinette's English best friend, and pratically the English version of the French queen herself. Ciel thinks that this explains the flashiness and the drag queen makeup.

Georgiana emerges from the bathroom in her human form, a total fuckable babe in a tight black party dress with long blonde hair. "How do I look?" She asks in that Audrey Hepburn way of hers, but really, she's even prettier than Audrey Hepburn. She is a fucking duchess, that sort of authentic elegance is something that cannot be reproduced by any actress. "I am so ready to party!" She exclaims.

So after a paragraph of the narrator expressing their opinion on CN cartoons and some other really dorky history stuff, it is revealed that Georgiana was invited to a frat party and she has been preparing herself for it.

"You look great, auntie." Ciel says, well knowing that Georgiana hates it when he calls her "auntie". She thinks that it makes her sound too old; but she is in fact over two hundred something years old. "So why the fuck were you working with your coat color if you were just going to put a blonde wig on?"

"Just in case I meet a totally ripped doberman or boxer at the party, you know." She winks promiscuously. Slut is a slut.

"Just don't come home crying." Ciel warns, remembering how last time she comes home crying about how the guys were "too rough", and that it "wasn't fun at all!" Ciel didn't bother to ask too much for the details, but some where in there Georgiana dropped a name. Ciel vaguely recalls that it's someone named Patrick. Hopefully not Spongebob's best friend. A dog and a starfish? How does that work biologically? Ewww...

"I won't. And you be a good boy." She blows an air kiss, Ciel dodges. The idea of being kissed by a two hundred something years old granny that looks like a Lady GaGa from the _Poker Face_MV is revolting. Georgiana is in too cheery a mood to say anything mean. All she can think about is doing doggy style with a doberman, quite literally.

Friday night, and nigga plz, no Rebbecca Black. Just Ciel alone in his dorm, listening to some blues by Kanye. There isn't anything good on TV, just re-runs of _CSI Miami_. Slowly, Ciel finds himself actually thinking about the lyrics... "_People talkin shit, but when the shit hit the fan_  
><em>everything I'm not, made me everything I am.<em>.."

There is just something about the album _Graduation_that is so alluring. It's not just Kanye's cocky attitude. It has a sort of sensibility that speaks so much to teenagers who just graduated from high school and are just entering college. The title says it all really.

"..._everything I'm not, made me everything I am_..."

So maybe Ciel is not gay, but he could be. We all like to take shit out of context.

As Ciel is busy contemplating about his sexuality and listening to Kanye West at the same time, the camera turns to East campus where frat parties are ravin'. Yo.

The camera follows a random frat bro as he enters a frat house lit with Christmas lights, although it's January. Said frat bro greets someone and we catch a glimpse of our beloved duchess flirting with two white guys who look like they should be in _High School Musical_.

"You have no idea!" Georgiana says, apparently being really funny.

"Oh really?" One of the guys says, smiling like a dufus.

"Yes! You just weren't there, his face was priceless." Georgiana holds up a finger, takes a sip from her cocktail. "And then afterwards he was like 'where's my pants?'" She laughs, and the guys follow, not knowing exactly why they should be laughing. Actually Georgiana just fakes a laugh to see if they will follow her lead.

Georgiana scans the room, these two are way too low quality for her taste. She deserves better than just that. A duchess will not settle for less. Suddenly she spots a cute terrier across the room.

"Excuses me boys," Georgiana transforms into a pink poodle again. Those two dumb fuckers look completely lost as G disappears in front of their eyes.

"Hey, seen a doberman around?" _LoveGame_by Lady GaGa is playing on the stereo.

"Nope. You mean Patrick?"

"I don't kno- I mean, yeah. Is he going to be here tonight?"

"He said yes when I saw him this morning." The terrier puts on his sunglasses even though it's completely dark in the room and laser lights are the only thing illuminating. "Want some weed?" He shouted over Lady GaGa's voice "..._Let's have some fun, this beat is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick..._"

"No thanks!" Georgiana walks away. It is really crowded in the room. She maneuvers between feet. Who the fuck is wearing cheap ass New Balance _neon_ _sneakers_ at a party? _Oooh_, nice Adidas Originals, it's limited edition too.

_Poker Face_ is playing, and Georgiana hates the song. It has nothing to do with poker. She never understood why it's such a hit, because there are definitely better songs on _The Fame_. But she does like the video very much, especially with the two great danes on the set. Georgiana only came to the party because she wants to see this doberman again, but her search is futile tonight. The room is getting warmer, and Georgiana is not exactly that desperate. She grabs her leather jacket and leaves the party, completely sober.


	4. Assholes in College

**Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, _incest_, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 4<br>**

**Assholes in College  
><strong>

* * *

><p>As Papa Bear says, the sun goes up, the sun goes down, no one can explain it. So the sun comes up again on this fine Monday morning, its majestic light shining upon every square inch of the campus of the University of Les Assho. Birds start singing and a homeless person wakes up under a branch. Some girl wakes up to a hangover, attempting to concentrate while putting her makeup on, cursing under her breath that she fucking hates Monday. Everything is normal.<p>

William T. Spear is a graduate student majoring in civil engineering. He starts off his morning with a rigid routine. William believes in taking care of himself. It is essential for a reaper to be meticulous in the choosing of his diet. Exercising is also important. William wakes up at five every morning to run around his neighborhood. Then he would go back to his apartment and do some more push-ups. Afterwards he will have a breakfast consisting of an apple, an English biscuit with some eggs or raspberry jam, and a cup of red tea with one cube of sugar. Sometimes William also likes to have Cheerios - not the honey nut kind - he prefers the original, tasteless one. Too much sugar is not good for you.

As the writer changes their mind about starting off the chapter by writing about William's morning routine (because mothafucka is too boring), the camera fast forward to 11:00 a.m. of Monday. We zoom in to Sebastian and Patrick walking to class.

"I hate that we didn't do jack shit over the weekend." Patrick complains. He is wearing an Armani suit today, and even though he demands the narrator to add more details regarding his daily attire, the narrator refuses.

"Well you said you were too tired to go clubbing after you came back from your little trip with Grell," Sebastian says. Patrick wants the narrator to point out that Sebastian is wearing a British-cut, double-breasted suit with a silver tie by Calvin Klein, which, in Patrick's words "makes him look like some douche-bag British fag."

The screen suddenly goes blank and the following message appears:

**We apologize for the interruption. We are experiencing unexpected technical difficulties, please wait patiently before the program resumes. :)**

Down at the basement...

"OK, are you just going to leave out what we are wearing every day? You didn't even mention the fact that I was carrying my iPad 2 with the embossed Dior iPad 2 case!" Patrick yells at The Writer angrily.

"Well sorry Patrick, I am not Bret Easton Ellis." The Writer explains patiently as he turns 90 degrees to the left in his rolling chair.

"Listen _dufus_, I will cut your fucking Irish head off with this if you don't write what I want you to write." Patrick threatens as he starts up his Husqvarna 450 18-inch gas powered chainsaw.

"Goddammit Patrick, I don't get paid enough for this shit." The Writer says with much self-pity. "This isn't your own goddamn narrative, alright? Stop being such a fucking baby. You have a fucking Platinum AmEx and I only have food stamp. Goddammit I hate you so much!" The Writer cries out with anguish, but he collects himself before he embarrasses himself by crying in front of Patrick Bateman of all people. "I am the fucking narrator, so shut the fuck up or else I am going to write something to humiliate the shit out of you, you racist son of a bitch!" The Writer shouts over the obnoxious noise of the chainsaw.

"You love me too much for that." Patrick smirks, then adds, just for safety, "No homo."

"Oh yeah? How about a scene with you tied up and Jean doing a really good job at being a dominatrix?" The thought of this shuts Patrick up - not because he's scared of the thought of being a submissive to Jean, his secretary. Patrick has never found Jean sexy or anything, but this actually sounds rather erotic, and he starts formulating sick fantasies inside his sick, psychopathic mind.

_*white noise*_

_*program resumes*_

The camera follows a suspicious figure as it approaches Sebastian and Patrick. Said figure hides behind a bush as the two sexy men walk down a flight of stairs like two Calvin Klein supermodels, all the while sparkling in their charm. Sebastian senses that someone is following, so does Patrick, but the both of them pretend that they are not aware of it.

"What's for dinner tonight?" Sebastian asks casually.

"How about you cook? Mr. Demon Butler?" Patrick suggests smugly.

"Hey, you are not my master. And I have no contract at hand right now." Sebastian says. It's rare for demons and death gods to get along, but for some reason Sebastian likes Patrick. In a totally platonic way, because Sebastian is destined for Ciel Phantomhive. He knows it. You know it. I know it. We all know it. ( ^_^)b

"OK, seriously, that thing that is following me is driving me nuts." Patrick suddenly puts down his calm facade and confesses. Right, like he's not already nuts.

"It's not anything powerful." Sebastian reassures his psychopathic roommate.

"But it's just bugging me, it makes me want to... want to..." Patrick stalls. What does he want to do? Chainsaw bloodbath or dissecting it with kitchen knives? He can't decide. While Patrick is struggling with which method he is in the mood for, Sebastian turns around and acknowledge the figure behind them. He isn't in the mood for killing this early in the morning. If he confronts the person himself, Patrick would be forced back into his friendly facade.

"Hi there, Miss." Sebastian smiles his perfect smile that is capable of giving fangirls explosive orgasms. Emphasis on explosive. Like, their vaginas would literally explode and bits of flesh will shower down upon their own stomach along with their cum kind of explode. (What the fuck Patrick? Stop planting bombs in people's vaginas! D:)

"May I help you?" Sebastian asks the girl.

"Hi Sebastian! I am a huge fan of yours, and of Ciel too, of course!" The girl says with a heavy Southern accent, which irritates Patrick.

"Um... OK." Sebastian doesn't recognize this chick, and why would she be a fan of his? Has she been stalking him? "So is there anything you need from me?" Sebastian asks good-naturedly. Patrick pops a Xanax pill behind Sebastian.

"It's nothing really, I just want you to model for me." It was not a question. The. Southern. Accent. Patrick wants to cut her tongue out with a pair of scissors.

"I've actually just done some modeling for a drawing class last week." Sebastian states. "So is this for a class or are you asking for a private modeling session?" Sebastian asks suggestively. The reason why Sebastian does modeling is because he likes to display his sexy, perfect scaled body in front of people. He has a constant need for it. Patrick knows this, and he thinks that Sebastian is a complete narcissistic attention whore for that. But then again, that's excusable, he is a demon after all.

As the girl keeps ignoring Patrick, the attention whore inside of Patrick snaps, and he goes up to the girl, still a bit jittery, and introduces himself. "Hi, I am Pat Bateman."

"Who are you?" The girl doesn't shake his hand. "Are you Sebastian's new boyfriend?" She demands.

"What?" Both gentlemen make the David Silverman face simultaneously.

"No, I mean I am totally cool with you fags having sex with each other and whatnot." The girl reassures them in her thicker than the goo that was used in the _Born This Way_MV southern accent.

"Wow, now, wait a second." Patrick gets between Sebastian and the girl and attempt to rationalize. Her sense of fashion is completely turning him off, and Patrick is thinking how there's no way in hell that he would ever fuck her. If Sebastian does, he is going to make fun of him so hard. Her tits are so small. "I am 100% heterosexual, and I hate fags." Sebastian looks at Patrick begrudgingly.

"That's horrible, you shouldn't hate fags, they are people too!" The girl exclaims. "I like gay people. No, I love them. I always wanted to have a gay best friend!" Sebastian facepalms. Who the fuck is this ignorant ass motherfucker?

Patrick is about to retort, but Sebastian interrupts before more homophobic slurs can be pronounced. "We never got your name down."

"My name is Madison." The girl smiles, but the way she smiles reminds Sebastian of something very very unpleasant. "But you can just call me Maddie." She winks. Totally kawaii.

"OK, look, Madison-" Patrick attempts to make an argument about how gay people are disgusting and should be burned and electrocuted, but Sebastian stops him.

"So, Madison-" Sebastian clears his throat. "Maddie, why do you need me to model for you?"

"Oh, I am famous for drawing pictures of you, I just thought if you would model for me I can get even more loyal followers who will worship me." Madison says casually.

Sebastian has no fucking idea what she is talking about, and is beginning to think this person is a runaway from an asylum nearby.

The girl notices Sebastian's lack of response. "Just model for me, OK? I deserve it for being such a loyal fan to you. I promote your fame, you should promote mine in return." She whines.

"Bitch has a point." Patrick nods, making the Obama not bad face.

"Oh, I also see potential in you... is your name Mark?"

"Patrick." Sebastian says. Patrick never gives a shit if people get his name wrong. He basks in the fact that people always get him mixed up with someone else.

"Yeah, Patrick, you should come by too, you will make a great William!" Madison says happily, she has already recognized them as a couple, there's no convincing her perverted mind otherwise. "Anyway, I have mad skillz, get it?" She laughs, but no one else is laughing. Sebastian begins to think that this is a complete waste of time and he doesn't really want to do anything that this Madison is telling him to, but it seems like a sinister external force is coercing him once more.

"Just look me up, you will know what I mean. My full name is Madison-Bethany." The girl writes it down on her notebook, then tears the page off and gives it to Sebastian. "I will e-mail you for the details about the modeling session."

Madison walks aways, leaving the two gentleman completely dumbfounded and not knowing exactly what the fuck just happened.

"Did she compare me to William T. Spear?" Patrick asks. "Or is it another William that she was talking about?"

"We are totally late for class." Sebastian remarks, ignoring Patrick's question.

"You know what, let's just skip and have a brunch somewhere expensive." Patrick suggests.

"Actually, Patrick, I think we need to talk." Sebastian says.

"Stop talking like that, it makes you sound like a fag."

"It's important."

"OK... that's what they always say." This scenario reminds Patrick of the last time a gay person confessed to him about his feelings.

"We will talk when we are back in the dorms." Sebastian says monotonously. "If you are going to skip class to get brunch, go ahead, I am still going." The two part in front of the George Washington statue.

Patrick walks around the campus, enjoying the stares that he is getting from the girls around him. But actually he is just imagining them in his head, no one gives a shit about him. Nonetheless, Patrick is happy, and that's all that matters. The thought of having to confront Sebastian is in the very back of his head and he's just enjoying this walk. The breeze and the girls wearing neon Nike shorts walking by... everything is good... until he runs into William.

"Hey Bateman." Patrick is thinking, oh shit. "You still haven't hand me a report of your last mission." William says sternly.

"Um... I have it... on my iPad."

"I want a printed copy, hand it in to me personally by 2 PM tomorrow." William doesn't like Patrick. Something about this man just shouts out 'liar'. He doesn't mind slackers. Ronald is a slacker and he's fine with him. There's something about Patrick that really irritates him. However, Patrick is very efficient, there is no denying that. William's boss has even mentioned that he's thinking about giving Patrick a promotion, making him the same rank as William himself. "Where are your glasses?" William asks.

"They are..." Patrick put his hand in his left pocket and pulled his Oliver Peoples glasses out. "In my pocket." He puts them on, then smile at William. William is wearing his customised reaper glasses with a Calvin Klein frame. He is also wearing a Calvin Klein suit, half black gloves also by Calvin Klein. Patrick thinks that William is a stingy bastard, because with his salary, William can certainly afford more than just Calvin Klein.

William doesn't reply and walks away. Patrick gives him a middle finger from behind.

And just like that, the chapter ends. The Writer shuts down the computer and decides that he should go talk to his boss about a pay raise. But when he walks into his boss's office, his boss is fucking a fish like a boss.

* * *

><p>AN: I want to thank Fetus again for helping to get a firmer grasp on what kind of character Madison is. :)


	5. Shitty Artist Shitty Art

**Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, _incest_, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 5<br>**

**Shitty Artist Shitty Art**

* * *

><p>"To define beauty, not in the most abstract but in the most concrete terms possible, to find, not its universal formula, but the formula which expresses most adequately this or that special manifestation of it, is the aim of the true student of aesthetics." - Walter Pater, <em>The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry<em>.

* * *

><p>"Good afternoon, everyone," John says to the drawing class, a new girl whom Ciel doesn't recognize is standing next to John. "Madison will be joining us today, so please make friends. ^_^" John says in his usual cheerful voice that has hints of age-old cynicism hidden within.<p>

"We will be doing a critique session today, so please take out your work everyone. As for Madison, it's OK if you don't have your work, just participate-"

"Oh, I did bring my work." She smiles cleverly and looks across the room at Ciel, which causes Ciel to feel extremely uncomfortable and possibly violated.

"Oh, OK, well you are more prepared than I thought you'd be." John remarks. "Good job."

Ciel ignores Madison as she keeps staring at him non stop. He tries not to look back. What the hell is wrong with this girl? Does he know her from high school or something? He doesn't remember anyone by the name of Madison, except that one really fat chick from back in middle school... but it couldn't be her right? Because that kid was really fat. Like so fat that her level of being made fun of was definitely comparable to the shame that a rape victim felt. Ciel is sure. Very very sure. Very sure. There is not a doubt in his mind. He can personally assure you _right_ now, that the shame that Madison felt back when she was a very very fat child was _equal _to the shame a rape victim felt, perhaps even more. Like seriously, no kidding, no joke. And you motherfuckers better believe in it. Although Ciel is hell-bent on convincing you this, he doesn't really give a shit about Madison.

"So... who wants to go first?" John claps his hands together, looking around to see if anyone is ready to go.

"I will go first." Madison volunteers with much excitement.

"OK, since Madison is new to the class, I want you guys to make suggestions based on what we've learned in this class so far, just to give her a general idea of the fundamentals of the course." John says.

Madison has her "paintings" displayed on an easel. They are digital paintings that she printed out from the computer, depicting Sebastian and Ciel engaging in various strange... intimate acts. There of course is no censoring in an art school as liberal as the University of Les Assho, but everyone in the class refuses to be the first one to comment. Some people steal glances at Ciel, and the whole room is shrouded in an awkwardness so unbearable that a cockroach in the corner suddenly choked to death.

_*Let's all have a moment of silence for the poor cockroach that is the victim of Madison's shitty art.*_

"I guess I will start." Everyone looks at Ciel dramatically and it feels like the oxygen level in the room is reaching 0%. Madison looks at Ciel hopefully.

"This is..." Ciel stalls, trying to think whether or not he should really say this because everyone is getting a grade for participation, and if he said the wrong thing, he might just fail... But hell, he needs to defend his honor and in the name of art, he should say-

"This is complete bull shit." Ciel announces, enunciating each word. He doesn't look at John, if John stops him... Oh fuck his grade, let's just do this shit for justice. "I will start off with the anatomy. It is obvious that the artist has no knowledge on the subject. They have never done any research or study on human anatomy - the facial structure is completely off, to the degree that it cannot even be called a 'stylized version'. A stylized version is something that still has aesthetics." Ciel points at one of the many pieces, "But what I see in front of me is just a complete lack of aesthetics. The artist is apparently going for some sort of Victorian setting, but I see no research done on their part. A made up style that only results in what seems like something drawn in bad taste. Not to mention the fact that the Victorian era is something that stands for so much more than just the luxury and Decadent movement, and those are the very superficials of the Victorian age that need to be mocked - I mean, there are still poor people in England and even in our country today struggling and trying to advance in society. The aristocracy is not something that should be romanticized and celebrated. As artists we are visual communicators, I think we should all find a purpose in our art than just to seek an old fashioned 'aesthetic' that is so overused and explored that there is nothing fascinating about it anymore. As a visual communicator I find it my own responsibility to speak for the suppressed, to make them heard by the rest of society. I am not saying every artist should take it upon themselves to do that. But for god's sakes, make something that has a higher purpose than porn! I mean, excuse my language, _homoerotic _illustrations intended for a younger audience to masturbate to. Art is so much more than just drawing 'pretty' things. Have you ever even considered what beauty means? Is it this whitewashed, Eurocentric sort of standards that you are trying to depict here but miserably fail at? It's because of artists like you that art majors are stereotyped for being shallow and- " Ciel takes a breath. "stupid." He pauses. Everyone in the room is astounded by Ciel's long ass speech, but- "I am not done." Ciel says. "Even though the anatomy is completely off, I can still vaguely tell that the young boy in the picture is me. What the fuck were you thinking when you drew me having sex with this guy?" Ciel questions angrily, pointing a accusatory finger at Madison. "I can sue you for that." Ciel still keeps calm, and carries on. "I am still not done, I haven't mention the color part, I can go on for days about how shitty of an artist you are."

"OK, OK..." John chimes in, seeing how Ciel is really angry and he's never seen Ciel that angry before. Madison is just standing there, sort of expressionless. Her mind still trying to process all that stuff that Ciel said about her work.

"Well, great job Ciel, that was an astounding... and very detailed critique." John says, all the while thinking that this is a really awesome drama to watch. "Does anyone have anything to add?"

Dead silence. Somewhere far away Oscar Wilde nods in approval and gives Ciel a thumbs up, then high fived with Walter Peter as they take another sip from their teacups.

"OK, do you have anything you'd like to say Madison?" Every girls' stares dramatically turn to Madison.

"Why are you hating, Ciel?" Madison trolls. "Is it because I am a better artist than you?"

"Oh bitch you didn't." Ciel mutters under his breath. "Don't you say-"

"Whatever, haters, gon hate~" Madison says. "And that's all I have to say, John." She smiles with much kawaiiness.

"Alrighty." John says, sort of looking at Ciel out of the corner of his eyes with curiosity as he walks towards some other girl's art work that is waiting to be critiqued.

"Fuck this shit, I am done here." Ciel says, stomping out of the classroom. No one gives a shit and the class is carried on as usual. John decides that he is going to give Ciel extra credit for his excellent declaration of being such a liberal hippie, it doesn't matter that he walked out of class half-way. Actually John just likes to play favorites, and Ciel happens to be his favorite student in the class, though, no homo really. Although John is slightly effeminate, he is totally straight and has a wife and two kids.

After we learned more about a minor OC that no one gives a shit about in a total non homophobic or in any way bias perspective, the story switches back to cover the dynamic demonXdeathgod duo that is Sebastian Michaelis and Patrick Bateman.

It turns out that Patrick has been trying to evade Sebastian for the past three days or so after Sebastian told him that they needed to talk. He tries to go outside as much as possible. Sometimes he would just lock himself in his bedroom and blast songs by _Genesis_ and _Huey Lewis & The News_ on his stereo (and sometimes Lady GaGa as well, because the techno beats are obnoxious enough to block out everything). Sebastian knows that he's there, but he doesn't knock on his door. There's no point in asking Patrick to talk when he's acting like a giant pussy like that. Although we might have forgotten something, Sebastian _likes_ pussies.

One evening, Sebastian returns home to the beat of _Hip To Be Square_ by _Huey Lewis & The News_, Patrick's favorite song to jam to while killing people. Sebastian wonders if Patrick is killing anyone right now. It's unlikely, because he cannot smell any hint of blood in the air. Sebastian is getting impatient. He really needs to talk to Patrick about his homophobic and totally Republican behaviors. He loves Patrick as a roommate, but he just cannot stand Patrick's political views sometimes. Not that Sebastian actually has an interest in trifle humanitarian things like gay rights, women's rights and whatnot... But he just wants Patrick to get to know him more... A brilliant idea suddenly pops up in Sebastian's mind.

"Hey Patrick." Sebastian unlocks Patrick's bedroom door with his mega awesome magical demonic power.

Patrick is spread out on his king sized bed, naked except with his $60 Calvin Klein boxer shorts on. He is apparently having a hard time because his homicidal thoughts have been haunting him during these past few days. He turns his head towards the door, expecting to see the faggy demon that is his roommate, but instead, what Patrick sees is something entirely different. He thinks that he might be actually hallucinating this shit.

What is supposed to be Sebastian, is a total fuckable Mexican babe that slightly resembles Jennifer Lopez but has the body of Nicki Minaj. (S)he is only wearing a laced up patent leather corset with matching panties and a pair of hooker boots. Jack fucking pot. But wait...

"Sebastian?" That is the only thing that the stunned Patrick can manage to say.

"Yes, it's me." Sebastian says, even his voice has changed to be more feminine.

"Oh. My. God." Nintendo sixty-four!111!1!1! Yes! Yes! Yes!

"What about god?" Sebastian asks, annoyed at Patrick's superficial respond to his hotness.

"You are a fucking Mexican!" Patrick starts pulling his hair, apparently in a moral dilemma. "But I want to fuck you so bad right now! I haven't masturbated nor have sex in four days!" Patrick is on the verge of mental breakdown. "This is not happening this is not happening this is not happening" he mutters to himself.

"But this is happening, Patrick. Look, I just want you to see that I am a demon, and I can be whatever you want me to be. I am just a spiritual entity; my physical form is whatever I want it to be." Sebastian explains, sitting next to be the confused psychopath, patting him gently on his back.

"Can I fuck you right now?" Patrick looks at Sebastian's tits sincerely. "please?"

"Ugh, you are so pathetic." Sebastian says, but nonetheless got on top of Patrick and started kissing him fiercely with his mouth and turning Patrick really horny with his amazing French kissing skills. All that is on Sebastian's mind right now is whether or not Patrick is going to hurt him after they finish having sex. If Patrick decides to decapitate him it will make things much more interesting. This thought just makes Sebastian even more aroused as he licks Patrick's jaws and causes Patrick to groan in anticipation.

Patrick's hard-on is pressing against Sebastian's. Yes, I mean Sebastian's hard-on. Oh, did I forget to tell you that Sebastian has a penis and a vagina right now? Fuck yeah she-male J Lo.

"Is that what I think it is?" Patrick asks suspiciously.

"What?" Sebastian pulls away, and fishes out the long, mushroom looking thing in his panties. "You mean this?"

"What the hell, man?" Patrick almost screamed with shock. "I thought you were a chick! I didn't know you were a tranny!"

Sebastian lets out a groan of annoyance, then marched out of the bedroom, leaving Patrick dumbfounded. The stupid bastard managed to convince himself that what had happened was only a fragment of his sick imagination. Therefore, Patrick turns on his TV and starts masturbating while he watches his favorite movie, _Body Double_ for the, I don't know, millionth time.

* * *

><p>AN: I am not selling out.

Also, I am beginning to think that everything at this point is just my imagination. I think my internet life might be a lie. But a lie that I believe in, nonetheless, so I am crazy. If you don't know that already. Now, if you'd excuse me, I need to watch some _Star Trek_.


	6. The Founding Bros and Jeff's Entrance

Hey, um readers. I am attempting to make first contacts with my readers. So let's play a game; and the game goes something like this:

Take a guess at my:  
>1. Gender,<br>2. Ethnicity, and  
>3. Age<p>

The person who gets the closest can ask me to a) draw a character **OR** b) write a one shot.

Probably no one is going to participate, so I am not too worry about it. I guess I will use another sock puppet account to guess for myself and then commission myself to draw some more porn. Oh, I love me too much.

* * *

><p><strong>Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, <em>incest<em>, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 6<br>**

**Meet The Founding Bros and Jeff's Entrance**

My thanks to fetus for playing Jeff. 3

* * *

><p>"Hey, hey!" Hamilton yells across the lawn. "Hey, Jefferson, shut up!" He then giggles in an immature manner.<p>

Jefferson sighs. He is just trying to have a decent conversation regarding the 2012 Presidential Election here with Mr. Franklin. Must that immature bastard always interrupt? Jefferson knows that Hamilton is just really bored. He can't be that immature. He is two hundred fifty something years old, although he is the youngest among them. Sometimes Jefferson just ignores him, but sometimes he plays along. After all, all they do all day is just stand there in their awesome Founding Father poses. It's pretty fucking boring.

"I've always liked Alex's 'live fast die young' spirit." Ben remarks. "Although that is ironic coming from me."

"Well, I was very happy at his funeral. I can assure you that. It's a shame they hadn't set up the Darwin Award back then, that way he got himself killed, he deserves an award for it." Jefferson says. "Who the fuck thought that it's a good idea to place the statues of me and Hamilton across each other anyway?"

"Hey Jefferson, keep your fundie mouth shut!"

"I am not a fucking fundie! If anything, you are the most Republican of all of us. You are not even conservative, you are just fucking Republican you fucking stupid son of a bitch! Go on Fox and be their guest star or something! No one wants you here!" Jefferson yells back.

Hamilton sticks his copper tongue out in return, not really caring for any sort of intellectual argument. "At least I am not a ginger like you, I have more than one facebook fan page."

"No one gives a shit about your goddam facebook fan page! You fucking made it yourself!"

"What? What was that? Was that an ugly, old, freckled ginger talking?"

Ben can't help himself and started laughing, turning to Washington, he asks. "How's your day so far, Mr. President?"

"Doing just fine speculating the same ol' drama that I've been watching since the founding of America." George says, seriously taking out his binoculars and overseeing the argument like a real boss/president.

"Hey what up mah niggas?" Jeff pops up from nowhere. "How's your copper asses doing?" Jeff asks with an accent of a Italian mobster.

"Um, actually, Jeff, I am cast iron." Adam corrects.

"Oh shut the fuck up John, Mr. One-Term-President who let the White house catch on fire."

"That is exceedingly rude of you." Adam mutters under his breath, but it's quite undeniable. He's the loser among his friends. You are welcomed to disagree if you are a history nerd and can write a six paged essay on why Adam was such a great politician, but no one will give a flying fuck. Adam is a fat dude that no one gives a shit about. It's pretty sad really. I mean, Franklin is like fat and old _and has male pattern baldness_, but he still gets way more pussies than Adam. Like seriously. It's just sad.

"Well bitches, it's History Club meeting. Let's roll."

Ciel decides that he's going to take a stroll on campus, just to get some fresh air. This week has been really frustrating. Ever since Madison got in the class, Ciel just hates going to drawing class. It's a pain for him to even look at what she is drawing. But the majority of the girls in the classroom thinks that she is amazing. Ciel is contemplating over switching to another class... but John is a really inspirational professor. He's seen John's personal work before and they are truly amazing. He likes to learn things from John, so he doesn't want to hurt his feelings by switching out.

Ciel walks by the Founding Father Square, but all of the statues are gone. Where the fuck did they go?

"This is really fucking weird..."

Ciel was going to do some sketches of the statues. But too bad the Founding Bros are having their History Club meeting. Ciel went up to the spot where the George Washington statue was supposed to be. There was a note:

_Dear passerby,_

_We are gone for our weekly History Club meeting held in room 1.203 in the Mary Stuart Building, you are welcomed to join us. Free booze and crack cookies. _

_-The Founding Bros. _

Ciel looked at the note curiously. He hasn't been doing any recreational drugs lately, so he couldn't be hallucinating. Unless G spiked her brownies the other day...

"I guess that's worth checking out." Ciel says to himself. G is not with him today. She's gone. He doesn't know where, but probably another rendezvous with one of her many fuck buddies. Ciel is not jealous. G's business is none of his fucking business. So he shouldn't care. He's not jealous, what are you talking about? What are you trying to imply? G is not his girlfriend and Ciel is not possessive at all, G is his pet and he's G's master. What? What? What's wrong with that? What the fuck are you motherfuckas looking at? Huh? But don't worry, Ciel is not going to send you a death threat for shipping him with G, not anything like a threat to sacrifice you in a Satanic ritual or anything. So don't worry about it. :)

The campus is pretty quiet. There are a few people walking around. It's Friday night, so most people are either basement dwelling in their dorms or at East campus partying. Ciel walks toward the Mary Stuart Building, its geographical location is not that far from the Founding Father Square. It's one of the oldest buildings on campus. The architecture is as old as Ciel's grandmother's ass. And it fucking sucks that they don't have an elevator, so Ciel has to walk all the way from the ground floor to the first floor. Ciel is exhausted. He would really rather have a sexy demon butler let him do the piggy back ride. It'd be the awesomest thing that can happen right now, and he can make out with said demon every day and let him suck him dry. Awesomeness.

Ciel looks for the room, and it's right across from the bathroom. lolwut?

There are faint noises of dudes laughing and beer bottles clinking coming from inside the room. Ciel knocks on the door as Hamilton was about to exit, causing him to run into Hamilton. It fucking hurts because Hamilton is made of copper. Ciel rubs his forehead, it might have been bruised.

"LOL are you OK?" Hamilton asks.

"Who's that, Al?" Jeff asks from inside the room.

"I dunno," Hamilton got out of the way, allowing everyone to take a look at the short white boy at the door. "New guy I guess?"

"Oh hey Ciel! It's you!" Jeff says somewhat happily. "You look as clueless as ever."

"Excuse me, do I know you?" Ciel asks the talking cat.

"Dude uh, of course I fucking know you." Jeff said. "I have traveled every last nook and cranny of time and let's put it this way- I know your past, your present and your motherfuckin' future. Too bad I'm not allowed to tell your dumb ass about it."

"What?" Ciel is an art major, he's stupid and doesn't know jack shit about science, time traveling and all that complicated Steven Hawking talk. He looks at the talking cat named Jeff and is completely clueless as to what he should say back.

"I even know you from an alternate universe, which is where I'm fucking from, but that's another neat-ass tale. You're not nearly as cool in this universe but I guess we'll just have to fuckin' change that. So grab a beer and sit the fuck down. We're playing the ancient satanic card game called go-fish."

So Ciel does as he was told. He doesn't even like to drink beer that much, but he feels pressured to fit in since he is, well, in a roomful of Founding Father statues. Even though it's like, rancid piss-water brewed by the grand hipsters that are the sole marketing force of Pabst Blue Ribbon. The official drink of hipsters.

"Who's turn is it?" Adam asks.

"Well, um, why don't we start over?" Jefferson says.

"But I was winning!" Adam whines. "For once!" But as usual, Adam just got ignored.

Jeff shuffles the cards and gives everyone five cards each.

" This is some serious fucking shit." Jeff says, reaching into his adorable kitty-cat wallet made out of tacky damask ductape. He places a fifty dollar bill on the table. "Winner takes the pool."

Ciel remembers that he doesn't have cash on him, but he doesn't say anything. Fifty is really not that much for him, since his family is stinking rich. But this looks like it could be fun.

"Looks like Phantomhive doesn't have any money. Did you spend it all on sequined shoulder pads and cocaine? Or did you finally take Sebastian out on that light-night hate-date?" Jeff asks him, purposefully taunting Ciel with his knowledge of well, some very odd information that made Jeff seem like a stalker.

"Um no... do you guys take credit card?" Ciel asks awkwardly, feeling rather out of place.

"It's OK man, I will let you borrow some money from me." Hamilton says, taking out five ten dollar bills from his coat. Each one has his face on it.

"Thank you, Hamilton. Your vanity goes so far. Now can we all start this game, ladies!" Jeff said.

"I really don't like the way you keep referring us to the female sex." Franklin remarks, "You are the pussy here after all." He steals a glance at James, and they both giggle.

"I am a manly fucking cat. Look at this big buddha belly, I bet none of you stony metal motherfuckers have the squishy fortitude to bring on the paw of miracles." Jeff said.

"Whatever, I will start first," George says. "Do you have any ace, Jeff?"

"No." Jeff says. Looking down at his hand, he notes that he has a shitty hand.

"Well, go fish bro." Mr. President says.

Jeff does so reluctantly. It's OK, it's only the first round, he is sure that Ciel is going to loose anyway.

But as the game proceeds, Ciel gains the upper hand. The beer tastes really bad, and Adam keeps suggesting that they should get some from his cousin Samuel Adam instead down yonder at CVS. Ciel realizes that the History Club is actually more like a frat, only with old dudes and a cat in it. Nonetheless, this weird encounter is helping Ciel to keep shit off his mind. He's not thinking about Madison or her horrible art anymore, nor is he thinking about Sebastian, because the mere thought of Sebastian might just give him a raging bonnnnerrrr.

At the end of the game, Ciel wins, he collects all the money, which includes fifty one dollar bills from George. George explains that's all he has in his pockets, one dollar bills. Because they are good for the vending machine. Franklin looks at George and nudges him with his elbow. We all know what one dollar bills are for. Apparently George's teeth is not the only thing that is made of wood. If you still have no fucking idea what I am talking about, we are talking about presidential boners.

Ciel gives Hamilton back his money and looks at Jeff. Jeff is staring at Ciel like he's not nearly as cool as he used to be, and he's not. Alternate universe Ciel is precisely twenty percent cooler than art school student Ciel, but that's okay. Because Jeff, time-traveling and dimension-crossing extraordinaire is going to save the motherfuckin' time line and alternate universe. One drunken card game at a time.

"Come back next week and bring some fuckin' blue ribbon." he says. "And chicks. It's a damn sausage festival in there."

Ciel doesn't really know what is going to happen, but he is pretty happy that he is invited to this new club. After all, his introvert ass has never been in anything cool his entire life.

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><p>AN: Next chapter will be awesome, especially for Patrick. I don't want to spoil anything, but nekoneko is gonna be in it. So, stay thirsty my friends. Bloody-thirsty.


	7. A nekoneko Appears

OK, so I guess no one wants to say anything, and that's OK. I am not begging for reviews. I guess it's kinda blasphemy to the fandom to review a fic such as this.

Also, I have a confession to make. Every time I write smut for this fic I feel really horny, no matter how weird the sex I am writing is. I am certain that I am a hypersexual. I am one of those weirdos who fap to everything, but I am not arrogant enough to fap to my own fanfics. lol If I do it'd kinda be like Adam Levine fucking his supermodel girlfriend to a Maroon 5 album.

**Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, _incest_, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 7<br>**

**A nekoneko Appears**

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><p>Today is unusually humid. The dam weather is making Patrick not want to go outside. He decides that he is going to skip class and later on pay some nerds a few hundred bucks to do his homework for him. Sebastian doesn't like it when Patrick is like this. Immortal life is boring when your psychopathic roommate is not acting out and making a fool of himself. Therefore, Sebastian decides that it's time to visit the art building again to see if he will run into the punk who tricked him into buying a shitty chicken sandwich the other day.<p>

But who knew, he runs into Ciel in the elevator since they live in the same fucking building. Oh, the irony. Now they can just have sex whenever they want! They mind as well fuck in the elevator right now because elevator sex is so erotic. *_Fap fap fap_*

Ciel doesn't notice Sebastian at first, too busy day dreaming - that's what art majors do.

"Hi." Sebastian says.

"Oh, do I know you? You look familiar." Ciel says, he has a tendency to forget about people whom he doesn't really give a shit about.

"Yeah, I am the guy you tricked into buying a shitty chicken sandwich the other day." Sebastian replies.

So. Fucking. Random. This scene.

"You know, I keep wanting to have sex with you whenever I see you, I don't know why." Ciel confesses bluntly. If you don't remember, dear reader, it's because there are millions of fangirls writing and reading about them having sex, all this negative masturbatory energy is some serious shit, bro. It collides into a worm hole of doom, which can rip dimensions apart and create an adverse effect on the magnetic field in this universe. It destroys logic and shit. Not even Mr. Spock can stop it. It's pretty fucking scary when you think about it. Do you sense a disturbance in the force? It's the perverse force that makes Sebastian and Ciel want to have sex with each other even though they are not really that attracted to each other. [end of info dump]

"Me too actually." Sebastian says, "But it's just really weird, because I don't think you are attractive at all."

"Yeah well thanks. Asshole."

Sebastian doesn't say anything for a while, and Ciel is quiet too.

"I guess I am just really bored and want to hang out with someone." Sebastian looks at Ciel. Ciel actually has a pretty nice body, he's skinny at least, so shota and hot. Sebastian might just want to fuck that. Who knows?

"Well, er..." Ciel stalls, thinking over whether or not he really want to hang out with this guy he doesn't even know that much about. "Sure, why not."

"Cool, where are you heading?" Sebastian asks.

"I don't really know, I was just going to walk around campus I guess."

"That's really great. I should do that more often." Sebastian wants to play nice, but Ciel is not really buying it. There's just something about this guy that feels really suspicious. Like, he's going to lie to him about everything after Ciel has an amnesia or something, and then take advantage of the whole already fucked up situation.

Ciel is being really quiet. They walk out of the building, it's pretty cold outside. Sebastian offers to let Ciel borrow his coat, but Ciel refuses. Of course Sebastian, who doesn't even have a gender (like a legendary pokemon), is going to act out all the stereotypes of a gentleman and treats Ciel like a lady, because that's how it rolls baby - hell, that's how most same sex relationships roll in fact. Ciel is a fucking girl and Sebastian is a sexy gentleman. If you disagree, then we are just gonna tell you that you are a fucking hater and you better fuck off the fucking fandom.

At this point, the narrator is already getting really bored writing about Sebastian and Ciel. There is no sparks, absolutely boring and monotonous. So we fast forward to the frat house of the eight-inches-or-more club, which Sebastian had suggested Ciel to visit along with him.

The house is located in East campus, where all the other frat houses are. It's a really nice, three-storied house bought by Sebastian a long time ago and the current property tax is being paid by Patrick. Sebastian used to live there. He decided to bring Ciel to the house so that they can finally strip the fuck down and have some hot steamy sex. I mean, we've been waiting for over six chapters for this scene now right? Fucking building up.

"This is a really big house." Ciel remarks.

"Yeah, you think so? You know what else is big?" Sebastian suggests smugly. The external force is getting to him, his demonic hormone getting way out of hand. He can't care less if Ciel is much less attractive than Patrick, I mean, ideal sex partner. He jumps at Ciel as Ciel was trying to examine a post modern abstract painting that Patrick had hung on the wall, which, Ciel notices, is upside the fuck down. But now it doesn't matter anymore, because Sebastian is on top of him and Ciel is being pinned on the floor, unable to move a limp. He could feel Sebastian's huge, hard cock pressing against his. If Ciel had a vagina, he might just start getting wet, but he doesn't have a vagina.

"What the fuck?" Ciel shouts.

"I can't hold it anymore." Sebastian answers, trying to rip off Ciel's clothes.

Ciel's ass is bony, and he's definitely not Sebastian's type, but oh, fuck that. He is going to fuck bocchan no matter what because that's just how it is. They are just meant for each other.

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" Ciel struggles, he is not getting raped. No. But oh wait, he does want to get raped... by this sexy demon. I mean, what's not there to get raped for? Sebastian is drop dead gorgeous and has a sexy voice. He also has a huge cock, which will probably stretch Ciel's asshole so much that he will be unable to walk for the next week and a half. Not to mention the benefits of being a rape victim, he can garner so much pity with this and he pretty much can blame any failures in his life on this unfortunate incident. But he isn't sure if he can elicit as much pity as a certain fat chick who gets rejected because of her body shape though.

This scene is just full of awkwardness as Sebastian tries to ass rape the kid. It's just too much for our poor narrator, but nonetheless, we are going to deliver the truth.

Ciel has never had sex with another man before, but that's OK, Sebastian will guide him because he is so fucking old and experienced. Ciel is not the first young boy he's ass raped before.

"Sebastian..." Ciel suddenly says longingly like the uke that he is now, succumbing to the external force that is rising his hormone level. He wishes Sebastian would just fucking shove his fist up his ass right now.

"Bocchan..." Sebastian mutters in Japanese and proceed to lick and taste Ciel's neck which tasted sweet for no fucking reason, because last time we check human sweat is supposed to taste salty due to the sodium content in the human body system. But oh, fuck science. And fuck Ciel.

Sebastian grinds against Ciel and they both moan due to the friction. Sebastian keeps dry humping Ciel for a few moments and Ciel's back is being pushed against the carpet which is inching backward towards the sofa with each hump that Sebastian delivers. The fabric of their pants rubbing against each other create a sensation that make the both of them feel like they are stuck in a torturous repetition where they can only feel the orgasms inside the both of them building up but not actually being able to release.

As they were about the do some French kissing, the door opens.

"Wow Patrick, this is really nice." A female voice that resembles G's says.

"You like this place?" Patrick says in return, holding a knife behind his back.

At this moment, Ciel and Sebastian are frozen, looking at the two figures who just entered the house.

"Oh my god!" G screams and then drops her Gucci purse the moment she notices his nephew on the floor, about to be sodomized by a demon.

In contrary, Patrick remains pretty calm. After all, nothing much can shock him these days. He's seen Sebastian transformed into a J Lo tranny. This is not really that surprising. Patrick doesn't say anything and slowly put down the kitchen knife that he was going to use on G on a nearby stool.

"This is not what it looks like." Ciel mutters the generic line when getting caught having sex in front of your girlfriend, I mean, pet.

"By the way Sebastian, if you haven't noticed, there's someone in the closet behind you." Patrick says. He just wants to get out of this place, now that his plan of trying to kill this hot babe is totally ruined by the shenanigan in front of him.

Sebastian looks behind himself and opens the closet while Ciel tries to put his clothes back on. This is extremely confusing. What the fuck was he thinking?

So the moment is here, the creature in the closet turns out to be a motherfucking nekoneko.

A nekoneko is a creature that relies heavily on the super internet search engine that is called Google and exploit various copyrighted materials available on the interweb. The proper species name of nekoneko is "disgusting subhuman filth of lying shit" (sources: TheAmazingFetus - expert in the history and shenanigan of Kuroshit). A nekoneko also likes to wear fake ass cat ears and think that they are soooooooooo very special and individualistic. Their sense of self-importance is overwhelming. A nekoneko also likes to lie in your fucking face, especially when it comes to a language they don't fucking know. The narrator is warning everyone who is reading this: try not to run into a nekoneko if you can avoid it, but if you do run into one, you better kill it with anti-nekoneko spray (now available at Megalomart for only $2.99). But if your poor ass can't even afford the spray, stomping it to death won't take you much effort.

"Hi~~ My name is Nekoneko." The creature says with much kawaii-ness. Patrick notes that she is completely flat and has no sense of fashion. He is completely disgusted by the stupid cat ears that she is wearing... but a brilliant idea sparked in his sick, sick mind.

"Ciel you are so cute~~~" nekoneko jumps at Ciel, Sebastian dodges.

"Can someone please explain to me what the fuck is going on? Right now?" G shouts. Very atypical of a vain female character. "And bitch get the fuck off my nephew." G throws the creature that is called nekoneko out of her way. But it is proving to be rather difficult since the nekoneko has the ability to adhere to Ciel like superglue.

Sebastian adjusts his outfit and straighten himself. He eyes Patrick wearily now that the evil force of fangirlism is slowly losing its effect on his mind. Sebastian feels slightly apologetic. But Patrick is just staring at the nekoneko creature with this expression on his face that indicates to Sebastian that his roommate is thinking up something pretty sick again.

"Get the fuck up, Ciel!" G yells at his nephew. "You better explain this to me." G is very angry at the fact that Ciel is "cheating" on her. No one cheats on the duchess, only she can cheat in her relationships.

"Can we just go?" Ciel says, not really giving a fuck about what's going on right now because he feels really dizzy for some reason. Damn it all, he was so close to being a legitimate rape victim. _It was just so close! _Ciel can't help but feel cheated.

G is not on the verge of tears but she is on the verge of stabbing someone or _something_, in this case, with her pumps. The nekoneko just won't leave Ciel alone. The duchess has had it. She takes off her $500 Jerome C. Rousseau pumps and shank it into the nekoneko's head, causing blood to splatter all over her white cocktail dress. The creature makes a sound close to a leaking air balloon as G stabs it with her heels multiple times, mostly centering her hits on its face, taking out her rage all out on the cluster fuck of blood and gore that used to be a nekoneko.

Patrick watches in fascination and is actually getting an erection from this (because he can see G's exposed pussy under her dress from where he is standing, the delicious scene with blood and gore just makes him even hornier). Sebastian notices and feels jealous. After what seems like five minutes of continuous stabbing by G, the duchess puts her shoe back on and stomp the thing a few more times, grunting and panting with anger.

"Take that bitch!" She curses. "No one fucks with my nephew!" G looks up at the man who had just assaulted her nephew earlier. The hatred on her face is so intense even Sebastian feels a bit intimidated. G doesn't take her eyes off as if she was frozen. Patrick has his jaw dropped as his eyes traverse between the cluster on the floor and G. Ciel is just standing behind of G, scared shitless by his great great great grandaunt's actions.

It is Patrick who breaks the awkward silence before a gay baby could be delivered to this world.

"Sebastian." Patrick tucks at the demon's jacket as G and Sebastian are engaging in what seems like a staring contest that can last till the destruction of the universe. "Can we go?" Patrick is really horny right now. The poor psychopath looks down at his own penis, the little guy is getting really hard.

"Why? Why should _we _leave? This is my house." Sebastian says quietly, not taking his eyes off of G's blood splattered face.

"Fine, _we_'ll leave." G spits in the demon's face. "C'mon Ciel." She grabs Ciel's hand and stomps out of the house while Patrick kneels down and uses his finger to play with the remains of the nekoneko, contemplating if he should try and taste it – to his better judgement, he decided not to mess with this shit. He doesn't want to get diarrhea the next morning.

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><p>AN: Next chapter we will have a lot of sex. I am not saying you and I are going to have a lot of sex. Patrick and Sebastian are going to have a lot of sex.


	8. Patrick fucks Sebastian

I just want to make this loud and clear:  
><strong>ANYONE WHO FAPPED TO THIS CHAPTER AND DOES NOT REVIEW IS AUTOMATICALLY A DICK. And not an 8-inch one because you know you ain't cool enough to be in the club. <strong>

**Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, _incest_, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 8<br>**

**Patrick fucks Sebastian**

I am totally creative with my chapter titles.

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><p>I also want to say that in this chapter Sebastian is actually unisex. He doesn't really have a specific gender but since the English language is fucking stupid and doesn't have a uniseuxal pronoun, I can only keep addressing Sebastian as 'he'. As I have mentioned before, Sebastian is like a legendary pokemon, so he doesn't really have a gender. I contemplated over using 'it' as one would for a legendary pokemon, but that will just sound really fucking silly.<p>

Sebastian steps over Patrick and the pile of shit that used to be nekoneko and sits down on a nearby couch. He is angry. He can't figure out why he wanted to rape Ciel. But the thing that he is most angry about is the way Patrick was so attracted to that ugly cunt that he was bringing in with him. Sebastian wishes that he had slapped her before she left. Patrick belongs to him and no one messes with his possessions. This is an obligatory description of jealousy before we begin our chapter that is going to center around Sebastian and Patrick having sex. Jackpot for you my horny friend. Have your dildos or whatever kinky devices you have ready.

"Are you done playing with that?" Sebastian snaps at Patrick.

"It's like... really sticky." Patrick observes. Sebastian sighs. The demon crosses his legs, thinking about whether or not he should shapeshift into something that will turn Patrick on. As the thought hits him, he begins to feel very insecured about his appearance again... Sebastian actually likes the way he looks right now, he wishes that Patrick would just accept the way he is. But too bad Patrick is a helpless homophobe.

"Get over here already."

Patrick gets up from the floor as he was told. He walks over to the white Edgar Blazona sofa that his roommate is sitting on, lamenting in his mind that he still haven't gotten laid since last Tuesday. He sits down next to Sebastian and drinks from a glass that contains something that he can't recognize. Fuck it turns out to be sweet tea. Who the fuck bough sweet tea? Patrick fears the sugar in the tea will destroy his diet, which is stupid, because he's a death god and his metabolism works differently than a human's.

"I don't care anymore. I have had enough. I haven't had sex for more than a week and I thought I was going to score with that chick but then this happened. I am just sick and-" Sebastian cuts him off by covering Patrick's mouth with his own. Patrick is still hard - in fact, he's getting even harder. Sebastian cheers for himself.

"Close your eyes and imagine what you want me to look like." Sebastian whispers hotly into Patrick's ear, causing the psychopath to shiver in excitement.

Patrick can feel his own muscles flexing on its own accord. What does he want? He can't decide. But if he just asks Sebastian to turn into some big titted blonde than Sebastian might get upset again and walk out on him, then he will just end up with no sex once more..-. Patrick suddenly wonders what Sebastian's true form look like. He's never seen a demon in its true form before... his curiosity is getting the better of him.

The moment Patrick opens his eyes again the lights inside the room were all turned off on Sebastian's command. He can't see shit, but he can still feel Sebastian's weight on him.

"Patrick you are a naughty boy." Sebastian's voice is coarse. Patrick is actually a bit scared now, because, as we all know, Patrick Bateman is actually a giant pussy, and he's thinking, maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all. He swallows and loosen his Ralph Lauren tie a bit. He can sense the demonic power that Sebastian is emanating. The thrill is making it really hard to breathe. Like seriously, it's getting really hard to breathe. It's not erotic when you can't breathe. I mean, you need to breathe when you have sex. You don't want to suffocate when you are having sex, right? Unless you are like choking on dicks, which is exactly what Sebastian is doing right now.

"Oh god... Ah..." Patrick moans, this is the best blow jobs he's ever gotten. It's probably the 'a guy knows what a guy wants' cliche. But Sebastian isn't really a guy, he's a demon, so does that count? But I guess we could say a penis owner knows what another penis owner wants. 'Penis owner' is the more politically correct term, apparently.

Sebastian takes pride in the satisfaction that he is giving to his roommate. In Sebastian's eyes Patrick is an adorable little homicidal psycho who also happens to be an immortal death god. Sebastian has been lonely for too long, Patrick is exactly what he's looking for. Oh well, this isn't the first time he's told himself this. Every time Sebastian thought that he's found his one and only, they always turn their back on him or he just gets bored with them. Most of the time he's the one who gets bored first and initiate the dumping process. Sebastian Michaelis is a fucking douche bag.

Is Patrick aware of any of this? Nope. He just knows that his penis feels really good right now inside Sebastian's mouth. He can't care less if this is gay and that he is a hellbent homophobe. This just feels too good to say no to. Sebastian's mouth is slimy, there seems to be little tiny suction cups on his tongue that is doing something really wonderful on Patrick's dick. Patrick can't help but keeps jerking forward, attempting to fuck Sebastian's delicious mouth even though the demon is holding him down quite firmly.

Sebastian wants to taste Patrick so bad. Would he taste like a mixture of J&B, Evian and Perrier since that's all he drinks? Probably not, because that's just silly. All I drink is Dr. Pepper and Pibb, but my cum certainly does not taste like a mixture of those two drinks.

But the million dollar question is: who is going to top?

_Dun dun dun. _

But oops, Patrick already came.

"Ah... fuck..." Patrick moans as he loads into Sebastian's mouth. The blow job given by Sebastian was so good that Patrick is still hard and ready for more. Hell yeah for second.

Sebastian licks him clean and looks up at Patrick, his demonic vision allows him to see clearly in the dark - from Patrick's heaving chest to his chiseled abs. On the other hand all Patrick can see is Sebastian's red demonic eyes gleaming in the dark. If he is supposed to feel scared now, all he feels is horniness. I mean, how can you not fuck something as sexy as Sebastian Michaelis? Surely no one can resist that. Who wouldn't want to fuck Sebastian? If all the people who want to fuck Sebastian make a line it would surely go around the Earth one full circle or possibly more (with Melissa being the first in line of course, followed by Madison).

The smell of sex and sweat permeate the air, mixing with the bloody smell coming from the pile of shit that is nekoneko's rotting remains. If that is supposed to be gross, it only makes the both of them more aroused. Sebastian touches himself and even though Patrick cannot see him doing it, he wished that he could. Damn he should wear his glasses more often.

Patrick instinctively grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand, successfully halting the demon's actions. Patrick traces from hand to his shoulder and finally arrived at the nape of his neck. Sebastian is actually surprised, he looks at Patrick for an answer, but his face is unreadable. So handsomely unreadable. It's like slow-motion handsomely unreadable. Back in reality, Patrick pulls Sebastian down and their lips meet in a heated kiss. So hot and moist and almost burning. Patrick can't tell whether Sebastian is supposed to be burning hot or freezing cold. It just feels, ironically, like heaven to him. Patrick is completely lost in the sensation, all the shit from the world is not bothering him anymore. It feels good to tongue fight with Sebastian. The sharpness of Sebastian's teeth threatening to cut his own tongue. The thrill from the alieness of the feeling is pushing his mind over the edge.

Sebastian is eager. Or to put it in simpler terms, he's fucking desperate and lovesick for Patrick Bateman. He is one infatuated demon and the chemical imbalance in his brain is making him want to actually have babies with Patrick and live happily ever after in a twisted sort of fairy tale way that the both of them will probably enjoy very much.

"Ah... Patrick..." Sebastian moans hotly in his sexy Daisuke Ono sort of way. Even though his mind is very much clouded by lust, he can still read Patrick's mind, he can sense how Patrick wants to fuck him hard from behind and then proceed to hurt him in various ways, like biting his nipple off or something of the sort. Sebastian is one very kinky masochistic demon.

At this point, the narrator scrolls up to see how much smut has been written. Two whole pages, in 11 pt fount, Arial.

Sebastian, like the uke that he is now, desperately wants to confess his undying love for Patrick... However, in fear of getting rejected, he decides to subjugate himself to angsty sex that is probably not going to be sexually pleasurable on his part but emotionally satisfying nonetheless, because he's a motherfucking masochist.

"Oh, Patrick, please..." Sebastian whines. Patrick looks at his sad eyes without any trace of empathy. Patrick Bateman is incapable of feeling empathy. He slams Sebastian's body down on the couch and pushes his nine-inch cock inside of Sebastian all at fucking once. Sebastian cries out in pain like the bitch that he is. Patrick is rough. He doesn't care if it hurts Sebastian, in fact, he likes hurting Sebastian.

Patrick speeds up, so fast that Sebastian can feel the vibration in his pelvis inside his head. I don't care if this scientifically makes sense or not, it sounded badass to me 1 AM in the morning.

Patrick imagines himself fucking Anglelina Jolie instead and then his thought shifted to G's glistening wet pussy, and then back to Angelina Jolie's huge, cock sucking lips, and then finally, right before he comes, back to Sebastian's flawless, pale, faggy face. It should have puzzled Patrick that he thought of the image of a man right before he reaches orgasm, but he's too damn tired to think about anything now. He slumps down on top of Sebastian, who is panting and whimpering. Yes, motherfucker is actually whimpering. For sympathy from his "lover". But Sebastian isn't getting any from the cold hearted son of a bitch that he calls a lover.

Patrick sighs with relief and decided that he's just going to fall asleep on top of his roommate, too consumed to even roll over. Suddenly, something vibrated, and it turns out to be Sebastian's phone. It is a text message. Sebastian fidgets with his iPhone 5 as Patrick closes his eyes.

"Oh shit."

"Who is it?" Patrick half yawns.

"It's my mom."

"What does she say?" Patrick asks, although he doesn't really care. He just feels really sleepy right now. Seriously.

"She says that she is coming to visit this weekend, which is tomorrow- well today now, because it's fucking 2 am in the morning... This is bad." Sebastian says with much comprehension.

"Why?"

"Well, we need to fucking clean out all the body parts in the dorm!" Sebastian almost yelled.

Patrick has never seen the demon feel this panicked, he's always calm no matter what. Maybe Sebastian's mom is really scary.

"OK, calm the fuck down man, we will do it next morning."

"There's no time, what if she comes early?" Shit's so fucked up recently, Sebastian is definitely not really ready to show Toboso around the house. What if they run into people that he doesn't want her to meet at all? Like a nekoneko, or worse yet, that freaky fat bitch who calls herself Madison Bethany? If anything, it's the first time Sebastian feels scared in his entire existence.

"I am tired; I am really tired..." Patrick managed to mutter before he fell asleep due to excessive fatigue. Man, you can't blame him. Patrick has stamina, but he just had sex with a very promiscuous demon. A demon that many worship as _the_sex god.

Sebastian wished he could stay and cuddle with Patrick, but he's really got to go and prepare for the arrival of his mommy, which we all know, is the fucking amazing artist known as Toboso Yana that we all love and worship. Sebastian cannot delay a second. It's his mother, his creator that is coming to visit. How can he hide the fact that he is living in such a fucked up world as this? Don't get me wrong, Sebastian is excited to see Toboso; and he wants to introduce her to Patrick too... but what if she flips out? Sebastian doesn't want to upset his mother... but fuck, we are running out of time, Sebastian leaves Patrick on the couch, covered him with his own jacket and ran out of the house to rush back to his dorm. He will think about what he needs to do on the way out.

When Sebastian and Patrick were fucking, G and Ciel were walking back to their dorm on this extra cold night. Ciel felt really bad. He walked behind his aunt as she fast walked in her pumps, Ciel wonder if it actually hurt to walk that fast in pumps, but Ciel didn't ask. When they are out of the East campus area and all the party noises were kinda faint, G transformed into her poodle form and started to run without once looking back at Ciel.

"Hey G, slow down!"

G didn't say anything. Ciel chases after her, huffing and puffing. He has no stamina at all. AT ALL. That's why I don't understand why any girl would want to have sex with Ciel. I bed he doesn't last for 2 goddamn minutes.

They got back to their dorm and no words pass between the two. G goes to her room and throws herself on her bed and buries her head in her piles and piles of pillows. But she left her bedroom door open, so Ciel takes it as a permission to talk.

"G, I am sorry." Ciel stands at her door and says, but G doesn't even move. But Ciel swears that he saw her ear twitched, the way that little dogs twitch their ears when they are sleeping. It's super cute.

Ciel knows that G doesn't take cheating very well, like anyone does... but Ciel knows that G's first husband cheated her on when she was very young. She first got married to the duke of Devonshire when she was sixteen and the douche bag cheated on her with her best friend. Her one and only best friend. G was traumatized. She had to live with the both of them for a long time too, which was more than torture for a woman who just really wanted to be loved. It seriously fucked her up and she began to indulge herself in a decadent lifestyle, but that's a story for another time. Or you could just google the fuck up or do some research on Georgiana Spencer yourself because, you know, as well versed as I am in this area I don't want to type a fucking biography here.

Ciel sat down on her bed without permission, but G doesn't say anything. He extends a hand to scratch on G's neck, a bit afraid that G will actually turn around and bit him, because G is totally capable of doing so under this sort of circumstance, but she didn't. She is actually really cute when she is a poodle sometimes, (when she isn't ranting about other people's fashion choices). She seems to relax as Ciel keeps stroking her fluffy pink hair.

The narrator contemplated over writing bestiality smut, but decided against it. Not because he's a pussy and doesn't know how to write it, we are just going to safe it for another time, plus, your genitals are probably aching after fapping to the slashy Sebastian/Patrick goodness. Let's just give it a rest.

G turns around and climbs into Ciel's lap. Ciel can feel that she is actually shaking. Ciel feels really bad now. He really does. He feels guilty for being the reason that G is so upset right now.

G doesn't say anything because she knows she can't. The moment she starts talking she knows she is going to cry. And she doesn't want to cry. It's stupid. She is afraid to ask Ciel what really happened between him and Sebastian. Why does it have to be Sebastian? G hopes that Ciel isn't bisexual. She doesn't need more competition... but wait, why is she so jealous? It's not like they are really together... He's too young for her. Too young to be an actual life-long companion... and she doesn't really need a life-long companion anyway... (Like anyone would live as long as she does.) This is getting really complicated and G doesn't really want to think right now because, well, like anyone of us actually care about this OC of shenanigan. She is also really tired. Therefore, the duchess snuggles up against Ciel and falls asleep under his touch like the good doggie that she is.

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><p>When I saw the Kuroshit confession the other day about how OC's are just usually fangirl's way of reliving their preteen fantasies... I actually had to do an internal check with G. I might have subconsciously created her to relive my own preteen fantasy. But nah. I don't think so. That's bull shit. My preteen fantasy doesn't involve fucking a sexually incompetent jackass.<p>

Next chapter we will be pretty mild, but over Spring Break I might or might not publish two chapters over the week as a treat. But don't expect too much from the next chapter, although there will be a prolonged interaction between Bateman and G.

BTW, here's an image of G if anyone is interested:

fav(.)me/d4p0lzp


	9. Chanel over Polo

I insist you read it on tumblr.

poodleduchess(.)tumblr(.)com/post/19373631808/chapter-9


	10. UglyChicks might or might not KillBoners

Read it on tumblr. No seriously, read it on there. Because I have started in add a graphic element to my fic.

poodleduchess(.)tumblr(.)com/post/19866556159/chapter-10


	11. Weebs Fashion

**OK, like, by now, you should know that if you read this on tumblr instead you can see pictures, but if you absolutely refuse to go on tumblr whatsoever, I am still posting on FFnet **

**But I am not reposting ch 9 and 10, you can find them here:**

**poodleduchess(.)tumblr(.)com/Romans-revenge**

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><p><strong>Warning: This fanfiction contains explicit material, that includes sex, drugs, incest, various fetishes, gore, blood drinking, serial killers' inner monologue, furries, <em>incest<em>, heads being cut off, guns, crack babies, talking animals, and various other magical creatures engaging in sexual acts. The writer often breaks the fourth wall. Please read at your own risk. However, the content of this fanfiction is intended for satire only, not for you to fap to. But if you insist on fapping to some of the texts, do as you wish, the writer does not give a fuck but they will not be responsible for any damage done to your genitals due to excessive fapping after or while reading this fanfiction. Please wash your hands thoroughly before you start typing your angry comments.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. They belong to Toboso Yana. I also do not own Patrick Bateman, he belongs to Bret Easton Ellis.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>ROMAN'S REVENGE CH 11<br>**

**Weebs Fashion  
><strong>

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><p>We are on a busy schedule today. The camera crew doesn't even have time to take a decent lunch break. The cameraman chews on a dollar menu spicy chicken sandwich made with genetically genetically chicken from a good ol' American farm as the whole crew runs to the building where the epic anime convention is being held by the anime club at the University of Les Assho. It's going to be epic because the queens of the kuroshit fandom are going to be there. All three of them: Melissa, Madison and nekoneko. It's going to be thuper kawaii desu~~ thuper thuper kawaii DESU u<p>

Right now, we are stalking Patrick as he enters the area where the convention is being held. He is determined to protect his boyfriend and his future mother in law from Melissa, Maddie and nekoneko. Although he denies the fact that he's Sebastian's boyfriend, we all know that he is doing this for Sebastian because he's a protective seme. Patrick Bateman is a seme. He's manly, even in a homosexual relationship.

Let's see what Patrick's got prepared. Oh, looks like he's going to use trash bags. Correction. Louis Vuitton trash bags. How classy. But it also seems a little bit tacky.

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><p>"I don't give a shit bro, I got these last year for Christmas. Some douche gave them to me, I didn't buy them." Patrick explains as he sneaks inside the hall. There is a lot of people dressed up in ridiculous costumes. People are cross dressing, especially really ugly chicks who don't know how to do makeup apparently. Patrick is disgusted by what seems like a girl dressed up like Sebastian with chola makeup on. Badly sewn tophats with fake roses thrown on top of them everywhere. And it also seems like some people are dressed as Grell. He isn't really sure, but the amount of reds they are using is reminding him of his transgender colleague. Two girls passes by and they stared at him and his perfectly tailored Valentino suit, they look like as if they wanted to tell him that he's out of place, which is ironic, considering that he is the legit death god here. Patrick is grateful that he's not fitting in here, as much as he's obsessed about fitting in. he just really want to get his job done and get the fuck out of this horrible place that is decreasing his sex drive dramatically. Patrick Bateman will never think of pussies the same way again. Maybe it's time to think about some penises. But no, he must focus on the task at hand.<p>

Agent Bateman looks around for any sign of his targets, but no he hasn't spotted any extraordinary kawaiiness yet.

"OHMAHGAWD it's Maddie!" Suddenly someone shouted from across the room. Patrick looks up and immediately sees one of his targets dressed in a totally kawaii outfit purchased from hot topic. Most of the garments were probably made by Some Vietnamese factory laborer who doesn't make more than fifty cents a day.

Melissa, as per usual, is not even wearing any makeup with her pink frilly robin dress. Her skin is as pink as a redneck's. With yellow patches of undertones here and there. You'd think that someone with upper class parents could afford makeup and shit, but no, Melissa believes in her natural beauty, unlike Ivanka Trump, that powder covered whore. Melissa is one humble Southern belle, complete with her pink Victorian dress today and gray blue wig tied in pig tails. How stunning. Probably deserves a feature on Vogue's cover.

A dude with greasy hair is standing behind Melissa. Like few other people in the room, he's wearing an over-sized butler outfit. How distasteful. Patrick doesn't understand the concept of un-tailored suits. And what the fuck is up with that greasy hair style? You can get a better haircut with just five bucks down at the street from the old hippie dude, yo.

Patrick stares at the pair and he can't help but wonder what's going on in rich kid's heads these days. When he was their age, he was wearing polos from Ralph Laurens and getting his suits from Armani no less... Nowadays young ladies would shop at Armani Exchange and the like. Patrick cannot express in words how much he loathes Armani Exchange. As much as he's a fan of Giogio Armani, the clothes sold at A.X. are just Calvin Klein quality shit with an Armani label slapped on top of it. But Patrick thinks that even an outfit bought from A.X. would be 1300% better looking than what Melissa and her bro are wearing right now.

What appears to be a three dollar hooker is standing next to Maddie. Patrick immediately realizes that it's nekoneko, and doubtlessly, the queen among them. It is obviously the queen because she is wearing the sluttiest push up bra with pads beneath it, and her legs were wrapped in fishnets. So classy and kawaii desu. Look at those delicious sugar tits. Seriously LOOK AT THEM. Look at that delicious pushed up B cups, LOOK AT THEM. Now, picture whipped cream shooting out of them like how Katy Perry pulled it off in the California Gurl MV, only that Katy Perry is a 32D and sugar tits here is a glorious 18B.

Patrick approach the queens of butthurt unarmed. He figured that he doesn't need to be armed. It's the first time he's ever targeted bitches as ugly as these. He isn't sure what he is supposed to do.

"Oh Hi, Mark," Maddie recognizes Patrick but mistakes his name as Mark again. Patrick doesn't correct her and smile in return.

Melissa looks at Patrick curiously. Patrick feels creeped out at the way she was scrutinizing his body. He knows something is very wrong with this chick. He knows because he can sense that she is just as crazy as he is. But instead of feeling respect for his fellow psychopaths like he usually does, he completely despises her taste in clothing. She is not attractive, and she just looks pathetic. She needs makeup. Lots of it. Patrick is not sexist. It's not that he thinks every woman needs to put makeup on, but you know you need makeup when you need makeup, and Melissa is that case. When your skin is pink, you need makeup.

"Hi, um"

"Madison." Maddie offers, knowing that he's not going to remember her name anyway and she doesn't care, because he isn't an attractive Asian man. "Is Sebastian here today?"

"Why aren't we getting a lot of attention from the fangirls already?" nekoneko asks, shifting impatiently, also grabbing her tits and trying to push them up even higher.

"I don't know, your majesty, it's like, they don't care about us anymore." one of the nekoneko says.

"If you wear a sluttier outfit and more fishnets maybe you'd get more attention." another nekoneko says.

"So, um," Patrick stalls, looking for words, but none came. He decides that he is going to put these motherfuckers away before he starts a massacre in the hall. He doesn't want things to get out of control now. A massacre can wait. He finds himself sweating for no reason. And it's not even that hot in here. In fact, the air is on high and it's 65 Fahrenheit in the room. There's no reason for him to be sweating like a soda can fresh out from the freezer except that he's too bloodthirsty for some action. In his head he's replaying the images of how he sliced off the tits of some hooker's and how the crimson blood got on the yellow fat in the form of beads because lipids are waterproof...

By the time Patrick's brain snaps back to reality, he's already got everyone in his Louis Vuitton trash bags and heading out the door without anyone suspecting him. He's not even sure if he's cut them in half or something. He hopes not. He wants to torture them alive. He is curious as to what sort of reaction he can elicit out of Melissa. He is genuinely intrigued. Melissa is different from the other two. Patrick is sure of this. Everyone else he's tortured before are boring, they always have the same reaction. Melissas is a psycho bitch, and Patrick wonders what sort of reaction would a psycho bitch have. The thought of this only makes him move faster as he return to G's torture chamber.

The writer ended the last paragraph and looked over the last sentence again, he realizes that "the thought of this only makes him move faster" sounds kinda dirty. But whatev. We shall proceed.

Once upon a time some crazy white dude who also happened to be a member of the US navy had climbed up on the tower and acted sniper. He killed a bunch of students from the top of the tower with a rifle. Ever since that incident, the tourist deck is prohibited from visitors. Patrick always wondered if he should reenact that stunt one day. Perhaps on Halloween. It will be pretty epic and funny and shall elicit lulz and approval from his bros in the serial killer club. He should hold someone hostage too, that would be classy. Hostages are always classy.

A bunch of nekoneko is following him, but they aren't doing anything. They are probably aware that they can't do much, but he has their queen. It's obligatory that they follow him. Patrick doesn't mind. He is just going to lead these dumb motherfuckas to the chamber. He suddenly feels bored. The tower isn't far from here, but he feels somewhat unentertained. He wants to get down to the torture part as soon as possible. Preparations are always boring. Patrick Bateman makes a grumpy face, and you know it's time to feel really bad for the people inside that Louis Vuitton trash bag. Or not.

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><p>So while the goddesses of the Kuroshit fandom is in mortal peril. Ciel is sitting in Starbucks enjoying a mocha frappuccino and free some wifi. He browsing on tumblr while playing Pokemon Black on his Nintendo DS. It's a DS and not a DSi because DSis are stupid. He likes the DS better. Ciel follows a bunch of art blogs on tumblr because it's cool and the awesome thing to do. But currently, everything on his dash is pretty repetitive and he is left bored once more.<p>

It's a fucking boring Saturday and he's incredibly boringly bored.

Ciel picks up his phone and decides that he is going to call G. He doesn't miss her, he just wants to hear his great great great grand aunt's voice. However, G doesn't pick up. Ciel sighs. What else can he do if he is not going to hang out with his roommate/auntie/girlfriend?

Ciel is actually pretty fucking horny right now.

He needs to score, he needs to get laid. Somehow.

If G is not going to cooperate, he simply needs to find someone else.

And this is not cheating, it's just G being stupid and not wanting to have sex.

And Ciel is pretty goddamn sure if he doesn't fuck in the next 48 hours, he is going to go insane.

Therefore, Ciel makes a logical choice. He is going to go find Madison and fuck her, and then go smoke some weed with the founding bros. But first, he is going to make a visit to CVS to get some condoms and plan B.

_Get money, fuck bitches, smoke trees. _

─ Ben Franklin


End file.
